


Sapphire

by writingradionoises



Category: South Park
Genre: Depression, Eric Cartman Being An Asshole, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Heavily inspired by Oculus, Hurt/Comfort, I think I made myself cry while writing this, I wrote this in a fucking day love me, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Is there a point to the title? no not really, M/M, Multi, No Smut, Past Rape/Non-con, References to Drugs, The original characters are literally just they're kids don't worry, Transgender, Transgender Butters, Transgender Kenny, Transgender Marjorine, Transgirl Kenny - Freeform, Weird writing Style, trangirl butters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 12:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingradionoises/pseuds/writingradionoises
Summary: Tweek didn't quite understand, but he loved Craig anyway. He didn't understand why his father was a bad person, but that was okay.He didn't care what happened, he would always love Craig anyway.--A simple memoir by Tweek Tucker written on his husband and his life as a survivor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Man, this is the weirdest writing style ever and I'm sorry.   
> This story is also fucking wild.  
> But hey, if you like it, support me on Tumblr, to, by reblogging my shit.  
> https://writing-radionoises.tumblr.com/

I met Craig in third grade. He was absolutely dreamy, or so I remember. He'd sit at the front of the class, in front of me, and zone out for hours at a time. He always seemed distant, full of imagination. One time I actually asked him what his reality was like, I wanted to draw it as a gift or something, bring us closer together. I wanted to be part of his world, to actually understand him. He was hesitant to answer, he didn’t want people judging him. Craig describes his reality as dark, the stars shining brightly and glimmering with blue and white. There was no one else in the world but him, left on an empty Earth in the middle of space. Sometimes his guinea pig accompanied him, other times it was just him. Such a thought amazed me, my thoughts had never silenced for as long as I can remember, always jittery and random. No matter how distant or bitchy or distant he was, I still found myself crushing on him. He was the guy I ever had a crush on, but I knew well that he had had plenty.  
I think about the boys I definitely knew were his crushes.  
The boys he was protective of.  
This included Thomas, Kenny, Mark, and, of course, Clyde. I was never clear to anyone else but me.  
At first, we would pretend to be dating for the sake of the town. They loved us together, and we didn't know that we loved each other, too. We started actually dating in late fourth grade. We were a cheesy couple, he loved hugging me and holding hands. He wouldn't let people touch me for the longest time, afraid they would take me from him.  
No matter how much I loved him, nothing could prepare me for December 18th, 1991.  
I was twelve, I'd be thirteen in a couple of months, and Craig went missing for a week. I was worried sick, of course. I had anxiety, and Craig going missing did not help at all. I always worried about him getting murdered or kidnapped, but I never expected for something like this event.  
My mother was called late into the night, around seven or eight PM while I was cleaning up the coffee shop. My father had already seemingly disappeared into the night, going out to get our weekly shipment, apparently. I doubt that’s what he actually did. My mother quickly answered the phone, the words heard I couldn’t identify, though the moment she hung up the phone, she grabbed me by the wrist and rushed me out the door. She dragged me all the way down to the Tucker family’s house, knocking on the door and being let inside.

Laura Tucker answered the door, her green eyes red and puffy from crying, she pointed to the two couches in the living room, and my mother quickly sat herself down on the couch. Laura sat herself down on the other couch across from my mom, leaving me mostly out of the conversation. It used to make me angry, how could she just ignore me like that? I realize now that she just wasn’t used to her kids actually listening. When serious conversations happened, Craig tuned out, and I suspect that Tricia did the same. People always forgot that both of us have very different personalities, we’re seen as attached at the hip and completely inseparable, practically the same person. It wasn’t true, we just complete each other very well. We were both fragments, and we would make up for what the other had lost.

“…Courtney, Craig came back home last night,” the blonde woman started off, her hands folded in her lap neat and proper.

“Oh, that’s good, where was he?” My mother, Courtney, answered, following Laura’s proper stance.

Laura fell silent, her eyes avoiding my mother’s blue ones as she looked to the side, “He came home bloody and bruised, wearing only an oversized shirt. He can’t speak right now, someone slit his throat. He wrote out messages, trying to tell us what happened and… Well, he said your husband had kidnapped and raped him, Courtney.”

 My mother fell silent, too, her blue eyes unblinking as she stared at Laura in disbelief. I remember that I had started shaking violently, placing my hands over my mouth as I tried to comprehend what I just heard.

“Laura, are you crazy? Richard is a good man! He’d never do such a thing!” My mother argued, brushing some of her coffee brown bangs from her eyes.

“Craig wouldn’t lie about this! I still have his notes,” she answered, pulling out a notepad from her purse and passing it across the table. The handwriting was messy and frantic, like he had been shaking.

Laura and my mother continued arguing for awhile while I ran upstairs and threw up everything I had eaten that day. I was terrified, if my father could do such horrible things to Craig, what was stopping him from doing those things to me? I had already started to blame myself, he was over at my house before he disappeared. My mother had tried to drag me home, but I refused. I didn’t want to see my father ever again, I was scared. Eventually, my mother abandoned me at the Tucker’s house, which was nothing new. Laura took me under her wing for at least two weeks, my mother and father completely forgetting about me.

Most of the time I stayed at the house, sometimes I stayed with Thomas and Tricia, sometimes with Laura, and sometimes with just Tricia. Someone was always staying with Craig overnight, and even after he got out of the hospital, he always slept with his little sister or sometimes me. I got to see Craig after about four days in the hospital, Laura took me with her to the hospital one night. Tricia had fallen asleep in Thomas’s lap, once he saw his wife, he carried the little girl out of the room and presumably back home.

An image that will never be erased from my mind is the image of someone once strong and confident now skinny and fragile, curled up on a hospital bed. He had bloodstained bandages on his neck, clean ones on his wrists and ankles. He also had a band aid across his right cheek. When he turned to see me, the sight of his once brilliant blue eyes now dulled out and sunken in made my stomach turn. My father did this. His hair was a mess, eyes widened in a constant state of fear. Craig had always been skinny, but now he just looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. Once he recognized me, he waved and gave a weak smile, my green eyes catching sight of IV hidden under the bandages. I waved back, a sheepish grin on my face, as Laura says.

“Hello, sweetie, I brought someone else to see you today,” his mother said, giving her broken son a hug, and kissing his head, “I’ll be back in a little bit, I’m going to bring dinner.”

With that said, the blonde woman exited the room, and left me and Craig together. I don’t remember much of this interaction. I remember his hoarse voice and coughing of blood, I remember kissing his cheek and then falling asleep on his lap. I remember asking about the teddy bear next to him on the bed, asking about the various cards piled up on the bedside table. He didn’t offer much of an answer, but I was happy to see him alive.

And that’s how our journey began.


	2. Chapter 2

He was released a month later, and a court case was opened up. I mostly stayed with the Tuckers, though I also spend quite a few nights with Token and Clyde. My mother didn’t really bother looking for me, so I stayed where I could. I wouldn’t go home until my father was gone.

I remember Craig calling me almost every night, telling me how much he missed me, or how excited he was that he was healing. He always seemed happy on the phone up until the day of his diagnosis. I was staying with Clyde at the time when he called, I answered immediately.

“Tweek?” He said, his voice was already half way back to normal, the hoarseness of it slowly disappearing.

“Mhm?” I answered, looking back to Clyde’s sleeping body behind me.

“… I got my diagnosis today,” Craig added on, beginning to go into the details of his day, “The therapists say I have severe PTSD, which will probably lead to a dissociative disorder and depression in the future…”

I wasn’t really too shocked by this, when something that bad happens, trauma comes out of it, and trauma always has friends.

“D… Dissociative disorder? Like, what kinds are they thinking?” I stuttered out.

“Depersonalization, derealization, maybe even multiple personalities, that kind of stuff,” the noirette answered, “Kind of scary to think that I might not be just… Me anymore.”

I sighed, trying to think of something comforting to say, “It’s okay, we’ll get through this. I love you either way.”

I could feel him smile through the phone as he murmured a thank you, we kept talking throughout the night until he fell asleep on the phone. I smiled and hung up for him, then trying to sleep myself.

The next year was complicated. The court case was opened and closed repeatedly, leaving Craig in a very fragile mental state. His scars were ruled out as self-harm, and Richard, my father, had claimed he just ran away after the visit to his coffee shop. Eventually, the case was closed, and Richard was free to go. He packed up his shit and left South Park, leaving my mother to eventually be forced to close up shop and try and get a job. Eventually, it became known that my mother had been on meth for years from our coffee, and that I was apparently also on meth for years from the same thing, except I didn’t know it. Courtney did. She was arrested for child abuse and drug abuse, and later sent into rehab. I moved in with Token, his family referred to me as their white kid.

The details of Craig’s case were released to the public, including his account of the entire thing, without consent. All of South Park knew about his private memories, and with the case closed, Cartman started a trend. It was called something like S.P.A.”V.”, which stood for South Park Against “Victims.” Basically, it was him telling the entire school to bully Craig. At the time, I didn’t read the articles on his trauma, I felt that would be betraying him. However, I found the article in my later years and read it, many years after he had actually opened up to me about it.

The way it was written was disgusting, making up various details as if Craig would actually remember what Richard wore each day, or how many hours had passed. The headline was even too much. “Local Gay Teen RAPED by His Boyfriend’s Dad? SHOCKING!!”

It made me hate South Park even more than I already did.

It was barely even a week after the case closed when S.P.A.”V.” first formed, and it was honestly devasting. Cartman has always had a way of manipulating people to believe him. Almost the whole school did outside of Craig’s friends group, which was like six to seven people against the world. We knew Craig was  too mentally fragile to actually deal with this all on this own, no matter how much he denied it. So, we tried our best to take care of him. Often times, when bullying did break out, Kenny and Jimmy rushed Craig away into the bathroom while Token mainly took care of it. If things got physical, I’d get involved. I don’t know how it came about that I was the strongest kid in the class, but it was actually true for once. Rumors were always spread about me, because I was the nutcase of the town, and most of them weren’t really true. I’ll admit, though, I’ve broken quite a few noses in my life. I ran through a window in third grade, screaming, I didn’t even flinch.

The bullying was really bad, to the point in which Kenny got PC Principal involved, who had moved schools with us. Craig didn’t want her to, he always seemed to make things worse in her opinion. However, PC Principal was practically an icon in Kenny’s eyes since he had gotten her and her siblings out of their abusive home, as well as helped Marjorine through her transition. She even lived with him and Strong Woman for a little while, waiting for Kevin to finally turn eighteen so they can all live together. So, PC Principal tried to put together an assembly on such a topic, rape was not to be joked about.

However, it was a bit too late.

In October of 1992, almost a week away from his birthday, Craig Tucker actually attempted suicide and almost succeeded.

This was one of two other times he’d attempt suicide over the course of the next couple of years. He wouldn’t actually become stable until we got married in 2001, constantly rocking back between coping and not coping. I can’t really say I was any better, I was a thirteen-year-old meth head who quite literally had no damn parents, I relapsed about five times over the next sixteen years. Either way, each time was absolutely devasting. The first was just much more shocking.

I heard straight from a sobbing Tricia herself while staying with Marjorine, or Butters at the time. He had overdosed on antidepressants and she found him, he barely survived. I snuck myself and Marjorine out of her house around eight PM, we headed over to the Tuckers house and Tricia let us in. We comforted her through her tears, and I let Laura and Thomas know over the phone that Marjorine and I were babysitting her daughter for the night.

I remember that during this time, with two little girls sleeping on me, suddenly missing my own parents. The thought that both of them were awful people who completely screwed up raising me had not quite hit me yet. After all, I was thirteen, I barely understood just why my boyfriend had attempted suicide. I had a hard time comprehending that my father, the same man who would make me peanut butter and jellies for lunch every day, the same man who supported me being gay when no one else did, did something so horrible to someone so close to me. I could barely comprehend that Craig had been drugged, kidnapped, and forced into sex multiple times, led alone believe that my father was the one who did that to him.

Knowing that my father was a monster made me feel like a monster, sometimes. I used to look at my mother and wonder if I’d be in the same place as her in a couple years. Would I be in jail? Would I end up in rehab? Would I hurt Craig the way Richard did?

I didn’t know, but it forced me into a hole of depression for a while, and I suddenly understood why Craig attempted suicide.


	3. Chapter 3

Depression was brought on me by the acts of my so-called parents, as well as the fact that my boyfriend could die at any moment. I babysat Tricia often, and often times we would discuss why South Park was so bad. At this point, I still didn’t have a home, and Craig was still in a coma. He’d be in a coma for the next month, and I’d be practically homeless until I turned sixteen.  At thirteen years old, I picked up the habit of doing strange things for money. Sometimes I’d babysit, other times I’d cook, and at some point, I worked illegally for a Chinese restaurant. Everybody knew that I was parentless and homeless, though no one did anything about it. While it was true that I lived with Token, it was more like I crashed at his place often. I was there to sleep and nothing more. I felt guilty if I did any more.

I visited Craig whenever I could, sometimes I fell asleep on him and Laura would have to carry me down to Token’s. I didn't return to school for days, I would sit out of Craig's room and pray to whichever God was listening to not take the love of my life away. His birthday passed, and he was still asleep, I thought for sure that I was going to lose him. I thought he wouldn’t wake up.

He woke up in late November, and I quickly rushed to the hospital upon hearing the news. I cried my eyes out and held Tricia close. I thought he was a goner. Craig was released a week later and kept out of school for another week. Returning to school was a weird feeling, apparently the event had gotten around the school quickly. I even overheard a fight from Stan’s Gang on the way out of school.

It just started with a simple gathering of Stan's Gang, Kenny trying to get signatures on a get well soon card from her friends to Craig.

"Hey, did you hear that Craig overdosed? Everyone's talking about it . . ." Stan said, shoving books in his locker.  
"Oh, that. I'm sure he's just doing it for attention, like he did with the rape case," Cartman responded, leaning against his own locker as he took a bite of the candy bar in his hand.

Such a phrase made my blood boil. I would’ve punched him in the face right there if a teacher hadn’t been nearby.  
"Dude, I think Craig is being serious," Kyle replied, shutting his locker, "About everything. I don't think it was for attention, I think all the shit you put on him made him feel like he had no other way out."  
"Oh god, here we go again with Kyle blaming everything on me," moaned the brunette, I could already see Kenny trying to defuse the fight by mumbling things and stepping between them.  
"I'm serious! I know you started the bullying as soon as you heard that stupid ass rumor! Cartman, you could've killed someone!"  
"Well I wasn't the one who told Craig to go kill himself! I didn't say 'oh hey Craig, you're a fag and you should go overdose because you're just an attention whore.' I didn't say that!" Cartman argued, pushing himself up off the locker.  
"Cartman, dude, you made me give you his phone number, so you could send him texts about how he should kill himself. You threatened to out me to the entire school," Stan said, biting his lip and looking away.

I remember the wave of shock flooding over me. I didn’t know about those texts, nor did I know that Cartman had manipulated his own friends into this.  
"You what?!" Kyle screamed, obviously the statement had pissed him off, "Okay, okay, okay, you threaten my boyfriend that you would out him to the entire school if he didn't give you Craig's phone number, so you could bully him outside of school? Cartman, I ought to kick your ass!" He continued his rant on and on, it seemed endless. I wondered where he even kept all this anger.  
"Alright, alright, geez dude, it's not my fault Craig can't take a joke, and it's not my fault that your boyfriend's a pussy."  
Both Stan and Kyle paused for a moment, Kyle instinctively grabbing Stan's hand and dragging him away, "Come on, Stan, let's get away from all this bullshit. Oh, and for the record, Eric, we're not friends anymore."

Kenny quickly followed Stan and Kyle, though gave Cartman a sympathetic glance. That was the last time I saw Cartman with his group of friends, or any group of friends at all. He came an outcast. And honestly? He deserved it. 

The drama around Craig’s case died down quickly, and the end of middle school approached quickly. I remember skipping out on middle school graduation purely because I didn’t want to be the only kid there without any family.

The summer between middle school and high school was strange. The moment Craig found out I was homeless, he insisted on me living with him. So, I moved in with him, we shared a room and a bed at age fourteen. I picked up the habit of staying up late, the one time where the house was quiet enough to think. I’d star up at the glowing stars on his ceiling while Craig would hold me close, arms wrapped around my waist and pulling me closer to him. I’d stare at the reddened scars around his wrists, sometimes touch them and rub them gently. He liked when I did that.

First year of high school was nothing interesting, it was just a more awkward version of middle school, to me. Sophomore year was much more interesting, though. It was the year that Butters came out as transgender and transitioned to a female. It was also the year that Kenny and Marjorine got together, as well as Marjorine moving out of her parents’ place. She and Kenny got their own place that year, Karen joining them after Kevin had disappeared. They didn’t know it back then, but Kevin had hung himself back in the woods back when he disappeared. The police would find his body later in the year. It was around this time that Craig was finally diagnosed with depersonalization and derealization. I remember that he would carry around a notebook and try and write down his thoughts instead of saying them. Because of his depersonalization, Craig often faded in and out from reality, leaving him with broken up train of thoughts and weird, broken down sentences. Often times I’d had to reiterate the day to him multiple times, trying to help him remember something.

Years disappeared from his memory, he told me his brain was trying to erase the traumatic memories, but got confused and is now erasing every memory with Richard in it. 

The worst feeling in the world is the sinking feeling in your chest when you have to tell your boyfriend what your first date was.


	4. Chapter 4

In senior year, we began to plan our life together. I said I was going to college, though Craig said he thought it’d be pointless for him, that he’d forget it all soon. I thought that it’d be too much stress on him, anyways. We discussed getting married, having kids, all that sort of stuff. We were a very domestic couple compared to other couples in high school, most of them based on sex rather than actual love. Though lots of people had thought we had had sex before, it was always a surprise to people to hear that we haven’t.

In the past, I was curious about it, but knowing Craig and his past, I never wanted to force this on him. I mean, we hadn’t even really gotten past first base. I wasn’t really sure if he even wanted to go past first base right now. At this point in time, he was constantly wearing a purity ring as a comfort object, to reclaim his virginity in some way. But, either way, I still loved him.

Graduation rolled around, and I was welcomed into the Tucker family like their son. Quickly after graduation, many of the kids I was once friends with began shipping themselves off into other parts of Colorado or, sometimes even further. Jimmy and Scott moved out of South Park quickly and went all the way up to Washington, while Bebe, Wendyl, and Heidi moved up to New York with pockets full of dreams and love to share. Marjorine and Kenny stayed right where they were, for the most part. Marjorine was always disappearing and reappearing, sometimes she was at Stanford for psychology with Kyle, other times she was home with Kenny, who was doing art school.

Craig and I didn’t move, we just got an apartment in South Park and I started doing classes. Craig tried to start working as a cashier at a local store, though he ended up getting fired for his mental illness. That made things rough on us, but we made it through. As soon as I graduated college, I started to save up for buying my parents’ old coffee shop and reopening it up under my name. I wasn’t aware of this at the time, though Craig had started doing editing online for money in an effort to make enough for us to fulfill my dream and for him to finally propose to me, though he did use spare money to get tattoos, ones to cover up the scars on his wrists and ankles. He now has little stars littering his wrists, thighs, and ankles, thanks to Kenny.

He proposed to me on our fifteenth anniversary, during a date. We got married in 2001, though it wasn’t really a big celebration, it was just a basic courthouse wedding with a little party afterwards. Of course, no matter how small we wanted it, most of our friends that had shipped themselves off returned just for this wedding. Scott and Jimmy bought plane tickets weeks in advance, Marjorine made sure she would be home during the wedding, and Clyde and Token just “happened” to have a flight down to Colorado around the time of the wedding. I never bought that, I knew it was more like Token asked and received.

Clyde and Token had been pretty much everywhere in the past couple months, Token becoming a pilot and Clyde a flight attendant. They almost always had flights together, having a seemingly perfect life. I was jealous sometimes, jealous because there was no way I could have a life style like that. I was jealous that Token had good parents, and mine just abandoned me out of the blue.

It was nice, though, I missed having the whole gang together.

Plus, it was funny to see Clyde, who was 5’4”, lift Jimmy, who was 6’1”, up over his head.

Later that night was the first time we had really done anything sexual. It was very giggly and confusing, though interesting.

I still find it funny that it took us fifteen years to reach third base.

A couple years later, I finally started up the coffee shop, and Craig got a mad case of baby fever. It was bad, honestly. I always knew that Craig loved kids, I knew he wanted his own one day, too. However, he always saw it as impossible.

I knew he was worried about having kids, too. He didn’t want to fuck them up the way I was fucked up, or the way any other kid in this town had been fucked up. No matter, we went through the process of adoption. Tricia was excited to be an aunt, though also upset that it took us so long. She was just now turning twenty-five, so she’d be more of the older, less cool, aunt apparently. Either way, she was happy. She was happy with Karen, especially.

We ended up adopting two little girls, born on the same day, ironically. One of them was a darker skinned baby with vitiligo, with dark brown hair is tight curls. The other was a pale baby with very light blonde hair, similar to the color Craig’s hair once was before it was dyed. The two were named Mocha and Vanilla, neither of them barely ever left Craig’s arms.

A baby room was placed in the upper part of the coffee shop, where our house was, which was decorated by Tricia and Karen. Tricia was excited about this, she always wanted to be an aunt, not to mention the fact that she was now engaged to Karen. This was one of the best times of her life.

Raising kids was interesting, especially since Craig had a very hard time trusting people to babysit his kids. If it wasn’t Tricia, he wasn’t going anywhere. Mocha and Vanilla were his pride and joy, he’d do anything to stop them from getting hurt like he did.

He tried his best.


	5. Chapter 5

Around their first birthday, there was a knock on the door, and upon opening it, my green eyes were met with my mother’s familiar blue ones, my ears met with the familiar ring of my father’s voice. This terrified me, I didn’t know what to say. They both have been shadows in my life for years now, I grew up without them.

“Why, hello Tweek. I’ve heard so many good things about you. I’m glad to see you again,” Richard said, giving his usual smile. My mother did not speak, only smile.

“Wh- Ngh… What are you doing here?” I questioned, my tone a bit more aggressive than I’d like.

“Why, we’ve heard you’ve got kids running around. Can we see them?” He asked, excitedly.

Craig walked over to the door, Mocha in his arms, and Vanilla waddling behind him, holding his free hand, “Who is it, h-“

I remembered very clearly, I remembered him freezing once he caught sight of Richard, quickly picking up Vanilla and backing away. I remember looking back at his, the fear in his eyes. He was still that little traumatized kid inside.

I heard the door to the babies’ room slam, and I turned back to my “parents,” and nodded a no.

“Look, you’ve hurt us enough, we don’t want you in our kids’ lives,” I said, sternly. I closed the door and locked it, watching through the window for them to leave. As soon as they were gone, I rushed over to babies’ room and knocked on the door, finding myself face to face with a teary-eyed Craig.

He let me in, closing the door behind me as he sniffled, I hugged him tightly, which ended with us falling to the floor. I rocked him and tried to calm him down for at least an hour.

I wish Richard would’ve just gone to jail.

Tricia got married when Mocha and Vanilla turned two, and by the time they were five, they were already asking questions. The first day of kindergarten hadn’t gone too well. I remember having to explain to them that just because they don’t look alike doesn’t mean they aren’t twins, I also had to explain Mocha’s condition to her. Most importantly, they asked why they don’t have a mom.

Later in the year, they even asked why they only have one set of grandparents. I didn’t explain, I didn’t want to explain. Richard had been practically patrolling the area every day, he’d come into the coffee shop when Craig was working, and I was in the backroom.

I never knew what exactly happened during those times, but it happened for years. I tried to open up the court case again, I tried to get a restraining order, though nothing prevailed.

Mocha and Vanilla hit fourth grade, the years of having them seemingly flying by. Now that I’m looking back at this, I still find it strange. I barely remember even turning thirty-six.  Either way, Craig and I were prepared for the worst. Fourth graders always got into the worst trouble in this town.

They had their own group of friends now, though. They were friends with Clyde’s kid, Alex, and Kenny’s kids, Mary, Morgan, and Max. I was so prepared for the amount of trouble that they would get into, that I completely forgot about the Richard situation. I still feel so guilty about it to this day, though this is the reason I wrote this memoir.

Richard Tweak had practically manipulated Craig into suicide. Apparently, he had sexual advances onto him while I wasn’t looking. He’d say things that he’d know would send Craig into a panic attack, and yet, Craig didn’t say anything. He let it consume him like he had before. He’d let the threats and such consume his brain, until he wasn’t strong enough.

I wish I wasn’t crying as I write this.

I found my loving husband, no, scratch that, my soulmate passed out on the floor from an overdose on December 18th, 2017. The twenty-sixth anniversary of his assault. I called the ambulance and did everything I could, but he was already gone.

Richard was finally arrested for assisted suicide, along with rape, pedophilia, and sexual assault.

The worst part of it was just telling Vanilla and Mocha about it.

As of today, I have little to no family left. My mother just recently died in a car crash, an as far as I’m aware, Richard died in jail. I don’t know if I’d consider the Tuckers my family anymore, with Craig gone and all. I’ve been in mourning for at least a year now, and many years to come.

I know he’d want me to be happy and remarry, but I’m coming on age forty now, with two eleven-year-old daughters and three tons of emotional baggage, no one is going to want me.

So, I’m fine with this.

I like to think that what he would’ve wanted was awareness, so that’s what I’m going to spread.

And who knows, maybe in a couple years, I’ll see him again. It’s not ideal, to leave my two daughters behind, but you never know.

I like to think that maybe, in a not so distant timeline, that none of this happened. And we just grew up to be two normal kids who fell in love.


End file.
